As this Christmas approaches, I’d like us all to take a moment and remember all those servicemen and women who won’t be home for Christmas this year. Many will be spending it in a war zone in Iraq and Afghanistan, just as I spent Christmas in Vietnam in 1966. Five years ago I ran this column. A couple weeks later I received a call from a woman. She said she had read my column and had finally gotten up the nerve to call me. She told me that her brother had been killed in Vietnam on Christmas Eve in 1966. She said this story had finally given her some peace in thinking that maybe her brother had shared some of the same thoughts on that Christmas Eve before he was killed. She hoped he had also experienced the peacefulness that I had felt. Talking with her made me aware, once again, of how lucky I am to still be here. We need to appreciate each and every day we have. I’d like to share these thoughts with you that I wrote back in 1966, so many years ago.
25 December 1966 (Christmas)
Merry Christmas to me. I imagine it’s Christmas Eve about this time back home. I wish I was there with them. We just finished Christmas dinner.
Sidney just left on patrol. I returned from an ambush patrol before dinner. It will be one Christmas Eve that I’ll never forget. It was a quiet night with no contact. I sure had a lot of thoughts as I sat out there in the boonies after it got dark. It was a beautiful, starlit night. The song “Silent Night” kept going through my mind. I thought of my family and how things always looked at Christmas back home. The tree all decorated and lit up with the bubble lights, the angel that has been on top of our tree for as long as I can remember, snow, and the decorated stores and streets in town.
I remembered the Christmas programs we put on back at Smith, our one-room country school. It seemed like we practiced for weeks. Then the big night finally arrived and all the parents, grandparents, and neighbors crowded into the little school to watch us perform. It was one of the most memorable times of the year. It was also real scary to stand up in front of all those people and try to remember what to say. I think the audience got a bigger kick out of our goof-ups, than when we remembered our lines. They couldn’t see our poor teacher cringing behind the curtain that was strung on a wire across the front of the schoolroom. I bet even she had a good laugh about our performances once the program was over!
Santa would show up at the end of the program and hand out candy and apples. I have some great memories from those old Christmas programs.
I also remembered how we always fed the cows extra feed and hay on Christmas Eve. It was their special night because the baby Jesus had been born in a manger with all the animals looking on. It was such an exciting, special night. On the radio we’d hear reports of Santa’s progress as people spotted his sleigh and reindeer heading our way. We always left some milk and cookies for Santa. He even liked lefse! Santa ate everything we left for him and even took the carrots we left for his reindeer!
A person sure has a lot of thoughts sometimes. I know next year on Christmas Eve I’ll be thinking of how I spent this one. I may have been out on a jungle ambush patrol, but sitting out there with everything perfectly quiet, it all seemed so peaceful, as I remembered and thought of what Christmas is. For a while there was peace on earth in the middle of a war. “Silent Night, Holy Night,” kept going through my mind. The sky was so clear and the stars were so bright I felt like I could reach up and touch them. There were millions of stars. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many stars at one time. I looked to see if one stood out much brighter than all the rest, but couldn’t find one. I used to love looking at the stars back on the farm, but over here it seems like you can see so many more. There are no lights of any kind to interfere with being able to see them. Everything is black around you and the only lights are the stars above. The universe seems so vast; it really makes a person feel small.
Since I’ve been here and experienced war, I’ve questioned the existence of a God. Sitting out there on Christmas Eve I felt like I was peering into the face of God as I looked at the millions of stars and galaxies. I don’t know what God is, where he is, or why he lets this killing go on, but last night I felt a peacefulness that I’ve never experienced before.
It seemed so strange. There I sat with a rifle in hand, along with five other guys, waiting to kill people, while the words “Peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” went through my mind. It’s no wonder my thinking and beliefs are so screwed up and confused anymore.
I wish I was home for Christmas. We all wish we could be. I’ll just have to celebrate Christmas in my mind, with memories of how it used to be.
One more thing, I finally received the package of Ma’s chocolate chip cookies! It was the best Christmas present I could have received! After weeks in transit, they were still edible. I shared them with my friends and they’re already gone. Cookies don’t last long around here. I’ve got to write Ma and tell her thanks. That’s about all on this Christmas day, 1966.
May this Christmas, 2009, bring you happiness and joy, and may the world one day experience “Peace on earth, goodwill toward men.”
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